| Bloody and Battered |
How the fuck did he get here, blood oozing from cuts all over his body, with probable broken ribs and definitely many more bruises. Where did things go wrong? It was just another night, another assignment, another mark. He was talking to a rough looking man who also ran a drug cartel. It wasn’t anything to do with the man himself, though he would be of interest eventually to Salvatore. No, it was about one of the other members of Salvatore, another person on the list of people to look into after the fire.
Jaebum has no idea what might have given him away. He’s very good at his job. Unless the guy knew beforehand... That wouldn’t be completely out of the question, considering the circumstances. Either way, he had gotten caught, and not even Doyoung’s vicious fighting techniques could get him out. Before he knew it, a bag had been shoved over his head, a sharp pain blossomed from his forehead, and then there was darkness.
When he woke up, he was greeted by a musty smell. He was tied up, cuffed to a metal bar in a bland room, one that seemed to be fashioned for torture. There were various... instruments lying across the floor, with nothing else in sight. His leather jacket was nowhere in sight, and his belongings were taken from him. His t-shirt was skewed horribly to the side, and his jeans had a few new holes he didn’t remember existing before. There’s a black curtain near the top of the room, opposite the door. He wonders whether it’s a basement he’s in. That would make sense, if someone were to cover up the window.
He didn’t have very long to himself. The door opened, and a few thugs proceeded to lay into him with whatever they could find; bats, brass knuckles, or even just their bare hands. Jaebum has no idea how long he’s locked in that basement for, only that there’s pain upon more pain, and only short breaks where he can try to take stock of his injuries. Eventually, that also becomes pointless. All he knows is that he’s never bled so much before, never hurt so much before, and that he’ll probably die in the musty basement, covered in cuts and in a puddle of his own blood.
His tormentors exit the room again, and Jaebum slumps over, his knees dropping to the ground with a soft thud that sends sharp flashes of pain through his legs and body. He shudders, wondering idly whether someone had turned the air conditioner on, before he looks down and realizes that it’s more likely that it’s because he’s lost so much blood. He doesn’t want to die in a basement surrounded by nameless enemies. But he doesn’t quite have a choice at this point, so he quits trying to kneel straight and leans forward as far as he can, the pole his hands are cuffed around providing a painful counterbalance as the cuffs burrow into his already sore wrists, cutting off circulation. But at this point, everything is pain, so what does it matter? At least this way, he can close his eyes, exhaustion and defeat washing over him.
@jongkook-mi
